


CRASH

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: A new hope, Adventure, Clone Wars tie-in, F/M, Pre-A New Hope, Star Wars rebels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6399169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes, you've gotta crash before you can fly."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sakara Dryr knew she was in for danger and adventure when she left her home world of Mandalore to make her way as a smuggler. After all, when the Empire puts a heavy price on your head, there's no shortage of bounty hunters clamoring for the reward. But she certainly never bargained on the life she crashes into. </p>
<p>[pre-episode IV, episode IV]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_A small, hooded figure wove its way through the shadows of the darkened alley, headed toward the large, harsh outline of the Empire's storm trooper training facility. They paused at the end of the alley, and a delighted smirk crossed the figure's features as they took in the now-empty yard. This would be all too easy, they thought. After one more quick glance around, the cloaked figure dashed across the yard, floating in and out of the shadows, only visible for split seconds in between. When they reached the building, the figure melted into the wall, pausing to check for signs that they'd been spotted. When none came, the figure smirked again and crept around to the other side of the yard where they knew a new shipment of equipment had just come in. The intruder knew it had yet to be unloaded, making it the perfect target._

_  
They approached the boxes and crates  at a crouch, keeping a wary eye out for any guards or security droids. Satisfied they were in the clear, they got to work. The first few crates were full of standard-issue blasters, of varying sizes. The small thief lingered over those only long enough to grab a few small blasters and place small, circular devices on the side of each crate. The last two, however, caught the thief's interest. The first was full of explosives, and other small devices they couldn't identify, and the thief immediately grabbed some of each and placed them in their backpack beside the blasters. After once again placing a small circular device on the side of the crate, they moved on to the last. The thief could hardly contain their excitement at the contents of this last crate. Inside was an assortment of spare parts: droid parts, wires, blaster parts, and small pieces of ship equipment. The thief grabbed as many items as would fit in the large backpack, and placed another device on the side of the last crate._

_  
After checking that the coast was still clear, the thief crept back around to the front of the building. A quick glance around told them the yard was still empty, and the hooded figure sneaked back across the yard into the alley they had entered from. When they made sure they were well hidden in the shadows, but still had full view of the building, they pressed a button on their wrist. For a second, nothing happened. Then, a large explosion shook the area, and alarms began to sound. Troopers and guards rushed from the building to see what the commotion was, some stopping in shock when they saw the glow from the fire. The thief stood and watched in satisfaction, as the orange light from the flames danced in their eyes. With a flash of white from teeth bared in a grim smile, the thief turned and swept away from the scene, disappearing into the night._

 

 

Seventeen year old Sakara Dryr stepped from the gangplank of her small ship with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. After putting a few things into her small home, she stepped out onto the streets and headed to the market, relishing in the feeling of credits jangling in the previously empty pouch at her side. The market seemed to be more active than usual, and the young girl noticed a commotion in a far corner of the market. She moved closer, attempting to see what was going on, but she was too short to see over the crowd. She tapped a nearby man on the shoulder.

  
"Excuse me, what's going on?" The man's his eyes widened as he turned to face her and he gaped at her. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and began to drag her away, towards a building. Sakara began to protest, desperately trying to escape the man's hold, but he only tightened his grip and placed his hand firmly over her mouth. He shushed her harshly, pulling her inside. He shut the door quickly and faced her, his hand still on her mouth. Sakara stopped struggling immediately when she saw the look in his eyes.

  
"Do you speak Mando'a?" he whispered, and Sakara nodded briefly. The man immediately switched to the native language of Mandalore. "Good. I'm going to remove my hand but you have to promise to stay quiet. Both our lives depend on it!" For reasons unknown, Sakara trusted this man. She could hear sincerity in his voice, and so she again nodded. The man slowly removed his hand from her mouth, and Sakara took a deep breath.

  
"What's going on?" she asked him quietly, and he shook his head.

  
"Nothing good for you, I'm afraid." When Sakara gave him a confused look, he began to rummage in the bag at his side. "You're aware the Empire has a bounty on the Night Rebel but never knew the Rebel's identity?" When Sakara nodded, he continued. "Well, they think they know now, and they've placed an even bigger bounty on their head since the events of last night," the stranger told her. Sakara frowned.

  
"What does this have to do with me?" The man sighed and handed her a crumpled up piece of paper he'd just pulled out of his bag.

  
"I'd say everything."

  
Sakara unfolded the paper, nearly dropping it when she saw what was on it. It was a reward announcement. A reward announcement with her face and name emblazoned on it. She placed a hand over her mouth and looked back up at the man with wide eyes. He was watching her closely.

  
"Are you really the Night Rebel?" Sakara hesitated. She could tell him no, that she wasn't, but what good would it do? The Empire was after her no matter what, and they certainly wouldn't believe her if she tried to convince them she wasn't the Rebel. So she nodded once, and the man shook his head in disbelief. "How old are you?" he asked her, and Sakara smiled grimly.

  
"I'm seventeen," she told him. She frowned suddenly. "Why are you helping me? Surely no one in this city would hesitate to claim that reward, why would you?" The man smiled at her warmly.

  
"I hate the empire. I remember a day when Mandalore was under the rule of our Duchess, Satine Kryze, under a peaceful and diplomatic rule. The people were happy. I remember the Republic and the Jedi, Jedi like Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano. I remember how much better life was." The man sighed as he remembered those far away times, times Sakara was too young to remember.

  
"What's your name?" she asked him, and he looked up at her.

  
"Amis." Sakara placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

  
"Thank you, Amis. For helping me. If I'd been identified..." She shuddered as she thought of the possibilities. "I don't know how to repay you, I have credits-" Amis cut her off with a wave.

  
"No payment is needed. Just get away from here, leave the planet. Promise me you'll keep the hope of a New Republic alive, Sakara. That's all I ask." Sakara nodded.

  
"I promise, thank you. Take care, Amis." She gave him a brief hug, using it to slip a few credits into his bag. Even if he said he didn't want any, Sakara felt she owed him. She stepped away and saluted him with a smile, before slowly creeping out into the street again. Amis watched her quickly scale the side of the building and disappear over the top. He shook his head again in awe, her fluid movements reminding him of a Jedi padawan he used to know. _She's a Jedi, that one. I'll bet my life on it_ , he told himself before heading back to the market.

 

 

 

Sakara reached her home without incident, and immediately began to gather her things. She had no doubt Amis was right, she needed to leave. She had no problems leaving Mandalore, she had nothing or no one to tie her here anymore, she hadn't since her parents died when she was six. But as she loaded her ship, she fumed over being found out. The only way the Empire could have found out was through one of her black market contacts. The fact that one of them ratted her out made her incredibly angry. She vowed to herself that if she ever found out who sold her out, she'd give them a piece of her mind.

  
When she finished loading all her things, Sakara took one last look at her house before turning her back on it forever. She stepped aboard her ship and made her way to the cockpit, running her fingers across the back of her chair before she sat down. She smiled as she prepared for takeoff, and began to talk to her ship.

  
"You ready, baby? We're finally gonna leave this rock for good. Sure I've got a price on my head, but it's exciting, actually. Maybe I'll be a smuggler. Yeah, that could work. You know, I'd better give you a name. I've had you for a year already, and now that I'm basically going to be living here, I think you deserve a decent name. Let's see..." Sakara paused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully as she adjusted settings. A grin slowly spread across her face. "Of course! It's the only suitable name. From now on you shall be known as the _Night Rebel_. That sound good to you, girl?" She could have sworn the engine purred a little louder, and she chuckled. She patted the dashboard affectionately and took the controls. "Time to go," she muttered to herself. She lifted the _Rebel_ off the ground and left her home world in the dust without a second glance, headed to a new life of danger and adventure.


	2. Chapter 1

**_Four years later..._ **

   

Han Solo was having a bad day. A _really_ bad day. The smuggler slammed his fist onto the dashboard of the _Millennium Falcon_ and let out a frustrated groan. Chewbacca roared from the seat next to him, earning him a glare from the pilot.

  
"No, Chewie! If we don't find that cargo, we're as good as dead. We're not leaving till we find it!" Chewie cocked his head slightly, and Han pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's gotta be here, now shut up and check the scanners, will you?" Chewie muttered under his breath, but did what Han asked. Han leaned back in his seat and ran a hand over his eyes. This _really_ hadn't been his day.

  
Han had been smuggling a cargo of expensive spices for the notorious crime lord Jabba the Hutt when they came upon an Imperial Starship. In a rare show of panic, Han had dumped his cargo. To his credit, the Imperials did in fact board the freighter, and Han had thanked his lucky stars he'd had the presence of mind to dump the spice. Only now, it was proving to have backfired on him. Han and Chewie had returned to the drop point to retrieve the cargo, only for it to be nowhere in sight. Deep down, Han knew his friend was right. The cargo was long gone. But he was Han Solo, and that meant one thing: he _never_ admitted he was wrong.

  
Han was shaken out of his reverie by Chewie's excited roaring and the beeping of one of the scanners. He sat up quickly in his seat.

  
"What is it, Chewie?" Han checked the scanner and grinned. "That could be it. Chewie, turn her around!" Han grabbed the controls excitedly, and began to turn the ship around. Maybe his luck was about to change.

  
As they approached the object, it quickly became apparent that it wasn't the spice. Chewie growled in frustration and Han's heart sank. He frowned at the sight before him.

  
"Chewie, let's get a little closer." On closer inspection, the two saw what was left of a small cargo ship, not as large as the _Falcon_. Chewie whined questioningly and Han glanced at him. "I don't know, pal. They must've come up right after we left, must've been some reason the Empire shot at 'em." He stared at the wreckage a little longer before finally sighing in defeat. "Let's get out of here, Chewie, looks like our cargo's gone for good." Chewie growled loudly, and Han turned on him quickly. " _Survivors_? Does it _look_ like anyone could've survived that?" He gestured to the ship wildly, eyebrows raised. Chewie just roared again, and Han threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! We'll scan for survivors. I guarantee there won't be any, but have it your way," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Chewie humphed loudly and began the scan for life forms. Nothing showed up on the scan, and Han leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "See? What did I tell ya, no one could've..." he trailed off as the radar started beeping, signaling a life form. Chewie roared in triumph and Han slowly moved his hands away from his head. "Survived that," he finished lamely. Chewie grunted, and Han waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, alright," he grumbled. "I suppose you want to bring them onboard?" Chewie nodded enthusiastically and Han stood up. "Get her in as close as you can, try to extend the boarding ramp. And keep an eye out in case those Imperials come back!" he called as he left the cockpit, ignoring Chewie's response.

 

 

  
Han grumbled to himself as he grabbed a mask. Of course he would've brought them onboard, he just couldn't stand when Chewie acted all high and mighty. They were smugglers, they couldn't afford to be high and mighty. He was still grumbling to himself as he crossed to the damaged freighter, but his complaints quickly died on his lips when he boarded the ship. The ship was practically in pieces, he didn't know how anyone had survived. He cautiously moved towards the cockpit. There had only been one life signal, and on a ship this size the safest bet was that there was only a pilot in the first place. He reached the door to find the control panel busted. He began to pry the doors open manually, grunting with the effort. He finally managed to pull them open and stepped into the cockpit.

  
When he reached the pilot's chair, Han noticed the pilot was wearing Mandalorian armor. His mind immediately went to the bounty hunter known as Boba Fett, and he started to reach for his blaster. He stopped himself when he remembered that the pilot was currently barely alive. He gasped in shock as he began to notice the pilot's appearance. They were slumped over in their chair, their armor covered in scorch marks from the controls exploding. He began to scoop the pilot into his arms, freezing when he saw the piece of metal jutting out of their side. He adjusted his grip as gently as he could and carefully made his way back to the _Falcon_ , checking to make sure there were no more survivors on the way.

 

 

  
When he got back onto his ship, he yelled to Chewie.

  
"Chewie, get us into hyperspace and then get your furry backside back here! I need your help!" Chewie roared from the cockpit, and Han braced himself against the wall as they rocketed to light speed. When they stabilized, he made his way to the small medbay area. He laid the pilot on the bed and frantically searched around for supplies. He growled in frustration and yelled to Chewie again. "Chewie! I need you!" Chewie roared from the doorway and came over to help. He roared at Han, who quickly moved to take the pilot's helmet off. His eyes widened in surprise as he pulled the helmet off to reveal the bright red hair and face of a young woman, the left side of her face a mottled black and blue where her helmet had been smashed into it. He watched as Chewie hooked the girl up to various machines and placed an oxygen mask over her face, and he grimaced as Chewie gently began to pull the piece of metal out of her side. When it was out, Chewie roared at him urgently and Han stared at the Wookie with wide eyes. "Chewie! I can't just take her armor off! What if-" The Wookie yelled at him angrily and Han swallowed hard before moving to unbuckle the girl's chest plate. "I hope you know what you're doing," he muttered worriedly. He pulled the piece of armor off, mouth twitching at the sight of her blood-covered shirt, and stepped back to let Chewie work.

 

 

  
Almost an hour later, Han was sitting in his pilot's chair absentmindedly spinning his blaster around. After about ten minutes in the medbay Han hadn't been able take the sight and smell of the blood anymore and wandered off to wait. He sat up straighter when the Wookie came into the cockpit, and glanced up at him.

  
"Is she alright?" he asked, and Chewbacca roared faintly as he collapsed into the nearest chair. Han nodded his head and stood up to pat Chewie on the head. "Good. You'd better try to clean up and get some rest, pal, you look dead." Chewie growled weakly in protest and Han chuckled. "Chewie, I'll keep an eye on her. Anything happens I'll let you know, alright? Get some rest," he told his friend, and Chewie rumbled gratefully.

  
Han made his way to the medbay and pulled a chair over to the bed before sitting down. He stared at the girl curiously, wondering why the Empire would've gunned her down like that, especially if she were actually a Mandalorian. Last he'd heard, Mandalore had a strong ties to the Empire. And she looked so young, it seemed a shame she was lying there hooked up to so many machines. Han leaned his elbows on the edge of the bed and studied her face. The bruises looked even worse than they had before, if that was even possible. Briefly he wondered if she would've been instantly killed from head trauma if she hadn't been wearing the helmet. The bruising was severe, but underneath the bruising he could make out a few faint scars that had clearly already been there. She wasn't just a pretty face, that was for certain.

  
As Han sat there and listened to her steady breathing and the steady beep of the machines, his eyes began to drop and sleep began to overtake him. Before he knew it, his head dropped forward onto the bed and he slipped into sleep, his breathing slowing to match the girl's. When Chewie came to check on her later, he laughed softly to himself at the sight and quietly left to pilot the ship on his own, leaving Han and the girl in peaceful sleep.


End file.
